


Getting Used to This

by Artemis_Dreamer



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cats, Cat AU, Drabble, Fluff, Grooming, Humor, Literal Catfight, M/M, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 23:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9146053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: "If you're going to intrude on my innermost sanctum," Megatron growled, "you're going to make yourself useful. Stop staring and groom me."---In which Megatron is marginally more vain than usual (and a cat), and Optimus is marginally more smug than usual (and also a cat).





	

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I adore cats, but don't actually own any - I'm incredibly allergic.
> 
> I'm using their Transformers: Animated personalities for this fic - because cats have actual emotions, slaggit. 
> 
> Free cookies for anyone who can guess the identities of their owners!

"Playdate." Megatron spat the word like a particularly unpleasant hairball. There was nothing that he loathed more than playdates.

The human word had been utterly meaningless to him up until five moons ago, and now that he understood it, he sincerely wished that he didn't.

The grizzled old Maine Coon bristled with annoyance, his thick silver coat puffing out impressively. His human was a feckless idiot. There were no two ways about it.

Bad enough that his human had a penchant for rescuing stray animals - nearly half a dozen shared his living quarters at present, and at least one would undoubtedly stay on as a permanent resident.

Yes, it was bad enough having to reassert his dominant status every other day as the menagerie shifted and changed.

Five moons ago, however, his human had begun a new job, and things had rapidly gone from bad to worse.

Apparently, another human at this so called "office" shared his human's misguided desire to protect the lives of all animals, no matter how inferior. That human, a female, also owned a Maine Coon.

The fools had bonded over their mutual servitude to their feline masters, which was all well and good. After all, if the humans exchanged advice, they might be able to better serve their "pets." However, the female human had proposed that their unique felines should bond as well.

Hence the start of the dreaded playdates. 

Megatron vividly remembered the elated ramblings of his human, ramblings that had directly preceded the first in a long series of disasters. "I've never met anyone else who'd even heard of Coons, never mind owned one. She's perfect, Megs, she really is. She's coming over tonight, and she's bringing Optimus. Try and play nice."

"Playing nice" and "Optimus Prime" were two painfully incompatible concepts. Prime was a Maine Coon much like himself, who, despite being considerably younger, was quite nearly his equal in both size and ferocity. (Not that Megatron would ever admit it.)

Their oblivious humans clearly had no concept of the sanctity of a feline's empire, and frequently transported their "pets" to one-another's living quarters. They then proceeded to show absolutely no respect whatsoever for the ideological differences that inevitably arose between the two dominant males.

These violations of Megatron's sovereign territory were known as "playdates," and there was to be another one today.

The two cats were equal in stature and power, frustratingly so. At every meeting there was conflict between them - neither could prove superiority to the other. At least Megatron retained one distinct advantage - Prime had a decidedly inferior coat, mottled brown and black and interspersed with patches of white. 

Yes, his own appearance was far more pleasing.

The unceremonious slamming of the entrance gate indicated that the female human had arrived. Megatron tried his best to retain his dignity, pretending that he hadn't just jumped a solid two feet in the air. For Nyx's sake, what was it with humans and slamming their gates?

An unpleasantly familiar musk caught his attention, and Megatron had barely even a split second to react before a mass of mottled brown fur slammed into him with a furious cry. 

"Damn it, Prime!" Megatron growled, retaliating in kind. "Have you no manners?" To launch an attack without so much as announcing his presence - truly the fool was as audacious as he was disrespectful.

"I don't need manners to defeat you," Optimus yowled his retort. "I only need power!"

"Power is one thing which you sorely lack," the silver feline scoffed. The banter between them had become alarmingly routine, insults exchanged as they tumbled across the ridiculously slick hardwood floors in a flurry of lacerating claws and mutilating teeth. 

This was happening far, far too often. If those oblivious humans didn't just up and mate already, Megatron was going to claw their damn fool eyes out. Then they'd have an actual excuse for overlooking such blatant signs of mutual interest. 

"Surrender, Megatron!" Oh dear Nyx, if he hadn't heard that one a dozen times. Frankly, he'd had it up to his whiskers with this nonsense. 

Their tumbling battle came to an abrupt halt as their intertwined bodies collided with what the humans called a "coffee table," and Megatron called a "pointless waste of space." 

The impact caused the furniture to shudder, their humans crying out in alarm. It figured. Those fools uncaringly disturbed the natural order, and only bothered to take notice of the chaos that they had wrought when it slammed painfully into their precious furniture. 

The table jostled again as Prime threw his full weight against the silver feline, who was now trapped in an undignified position between the furniture and his opponent. The table jostled for a third time, and something fell.

Something incredibly sticky and disgustingly gooey, right onto Megatron's luxurious fur. Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.

In one fluid motion, he batted his opponent away and leapt up onto the table. Optimus went skidding across the slick floor, claws scrabbling for purchase, but Megatron hardly noticed. Such a trivial battle against such an inferior opponent no longer mattered. This affront to his dignity must be repaid in kind.

With an irate flick of his tail, the silver feline cleared the rest of the precariously perched foodstuffs from the table, be they sticky or otherwise. A mess of spilt food splattered to the floor, and several dishes broke upon impact. The humans cried out in distress, but did not interfere - he had trained them far better than to discipline him for such displays of temper. 

Quite often, they were justified, and even more often-

Oh Nyx, now his tail was filthy too. 

Megatron had had enough. His patience for oblivious humans, boisterous adversaries and disgusting foodstuffs was now completely exhausted. Gathering what remained of his dignity, he leapt from the table and stalked out of the room.

What he didn't expect was for Prime to follow him. The mottled feline trailed after him almost hesitantly, clearly cowed by such a violent outburst. 

Good. It seemed that Optimus had finally learned his place.

Prime continued to follow him as he stalked down a short hallway and into the room where his human slept. He settled theatrically onto a heaping pile of blankets in the far corner of the room and set about making himself comfortable.

To his great displeasure, Optimus flopped down beside him, watching his every move intently.

Sparing a moment to glare at the other feline, Megatron began to carefully groom the filth from his fur, tongue lapping over the offending substance. It was far, far too sweet. 

Optimus continued to watch him, eyes carefully following each undulation of Megatron's tongue. The silver feline hissed with exasperation - Prime was a thoroughly unwelcome audience. 

"If you're going to intrude on my innermost sanctum," Megatron growled, "you're going to make yourself useful. Stop staring and groom me."

"Why should I?" Optimus challenged, already moving to comply. Megatron had established his dominance - he was to be obeyed. For now, at least.

Besides, Optimus wanted to. Now that the hostilities had ended, however temporarily, Prime had had a chance to properly appraise the silver feline. The massive, powerful and truly majestic silver feline, resplendent on a luxurious throne of blankets. 

Yes, he definitely wanted to groom Megatron. 

"This indignity is you damned fault, Prime. Nyx forbid I should expect the treatment I rightfully deserve." Megatron's tone dripped with arrogance, but there was a playful purr beneath those words. 

Despite being possessed of a decidedly unfortunate coloration, Optimus was still a sleek and gorgeous feline, and to be groomed by him would be an absolute pleasure. 

In lieu of a response, Prime curled himself against Megatron's side, tongue lapping gently over that silver fur.

A rumbling purr resonated in Megatron's chest, a purr of pure bliss, as he lost himself to the sensation of Prime's tongue. He stopped his own attempts at grooming entirely, revelling selfishly in the other's ministrations. 

Of course, Optimus just had to notice. "Lazy," he scolded, nudging the larger cat's hindquarters with a teasing paw.

"Content." Megatron corrected, batting the offending paw aside. Content to let Prime utterly worship his fur. His steady purr was punctuated by a mewl of pleasure as Optimus discovered a particularly sensitive area, lavishing it with attention. 

Oh Nyx yes, he could get used to this. 

Schemes whirled through Megatron's devious mind as he plotted and planned, searching for a way – any way - to make the Prime his own. No other feline deserved to possess such perfection.

Perhaps he could knock some sense into his human, forcibly prompt that fool to mate with Prime's human. When humans mated, said mating was usually accompanied by cohabitation, by the sharing of territory. Cohabitation between their humans would mean having Optimus Prime by his side at all times.

A languid yawn escaped the silver feline, his purring becoming steadily quieter as his eyelids began to drift closed. Yes, Prime would be his and his alone. 

Unbeknownst to Megatron, a smug little grin had formed on "his" Prime's muzzle. If mere grooming was enough to sate such a beast, he could only marvel at what genuine affection might do. It would be so easy to tame Megatron completely, to have the stunning silver feline wrapped firmly around his paw.

The purring ceased entirely, and Optimus realized that the other cat had fallen asleep. His teasing had been accurate - Megatron truly was a lazy creature.

If a summary were to be made, the silver feline was old, foul-tempered, slothful, violent, and utterly gorgeous. Optimus could honestly say that he’d never met a more perfect creature. Yes, Megatron would be his and his alone.

Prime caught himself yawning as well. He was far from lazy, but their battle had been fierce, and he was tired, and just a short nap wouldn't hurt. Nuzzling deeply into Megatron's comfortable fur, Optimus stopped making excuses and allowed himself to drift off into slumber.

Maybe he'd even see Megatron in his dreams. 

The two cats had barely slept for even half an hour when a gleeful squeal jarred them rudely awake. Megatron bared his fangs in a snarl, turning to glare dangerously at the female human. Optimus merely grumbled his displeasure and nuzzled even deeper into that incredible silver fur. He was used to his human's high-pitched noises. 

"Come quick! You have to see this," the female human was calling, summoning Megatron's human. "They're cuddling!"

"Cuddling?" His human asked incredulously, hastily entering the room. "They hate each other."

The male human surveyed the scene, his expression becoming one of shock when he realized that the female was being serious.

Their two felines were snuggling contentedly, almost affectionately, in an intertwined mass of brown and silver fur. Their massive, powerful and truly majestic felines, resplendent on Megatron’s luxurious throne of misappropriated blankets.

"You're not kidding," his human observed. "Holy wow, that's actually really cute." Maybe it was a sign?

"Cute." Megatron spat the word like a particularly unpleasant hairball. There was nothing that he loathed more than being called cute. 

He had re-evaluated his stance on playdates.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, folks! I figured I'd get my taxes paid early for a change.
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated.


End file.
